Impressions
by satinsilversnowflake
Summary: Sometimes the first ones are the truest. Sometimes they are only a shard of the truth. Some cut deeper than others. Zutara oneshot. Postwar.


_This is a random oneshot about katara and zuko. I wrote it on the spur of the moment while I was listening to "face down", "diary of jane" (acoustic version), and "headstrong" on itunes. Its one of those things that you read back over and don't even remember writing some parts, so I just posted it for the heck of it anyway. So . . . yeah, and Katara and Zuko are only a year or two older than in the series. Reviews would be wonderful, especially if you think that the difference between the flashbacks, thoughts, present, and different pov's aren't clear enough. Anyway, this is getting sorta long so - enjoy!_

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Maybe first impressions are the clearest glimpses of someone.

Maybe first impressions were the truest, Katara thought. Her first impression of him had been the metal crushing ice, the steaming ramp that touched down with a sickening thud. His face was contorted and angry as he descended from above. Her first impression was fear and anger. Then he was gone, leaving the impression of a steel ramp in the ice.

Katara looked up at Zuko. The same fear struck as he towered above her – his face contorted and angry – a flame in his palm.

Maybe first impressions were the truest, Zuko thought. His first impression of her had been those pure and terrified blue eyes placed within the tan mold of a little girl. A mere child. A raw water peasant girl. She knew nothing of hurt, war, torn families, destinies, and life changing consequences. Consequences that left impressions – in your skin. On your face. Seared into your brain. She disgusted him. She was everything he thought he hated.

Zuko looked down at her where she cowered on the floor. The same anger bloomed in him as she turned her head away, waiting for a blow.

Maybe first impressions were only a shard of the truth, Katara thought.

She watched as Zuko shut his eyes tight and gritted his teeth. He stepped out of stance and the flame dissipated as his arm fell limply by his side. He turned away from her, so she could only see his profile. A tear was shimmering beneath his closed eye. It was only a shard of the truth, because Zuko was not an angry and contorted person. Confused? Yes. Stubborn? Yes; but he was also capable of handling his emotions. He had changed . . . or maybe he had just grown up.

Maybe first impressions were only a shard of the truth, Zuko thought.

He glanced back at her as she rose and looked him in the eye. Her eyes were hard and gentle, like water and ice at the same time. They told of hurt, war, torn families, destinies, and life changing consequences. Consequences that carved impressions – into another's blood. With a steady hand, Katara put out the burning tapestry on the wall. First impressions were only a shard of the truth, because Katara was not a naïve and weak little girl. Caring? Yes. Willful? Yes. And Zuko knew that if he had struck her, she would not have taken it passively – as much as she would have hated to hurt him. She had changed . . . or maybe she had just grown up.

Katara walked over to Zuko. She watched him slump into a chair and finger the golden flame that sat on the desk. More tears were threatening to spill.

"Katara, I'm so sorry. I could have – could have – "

Katara sat on the desk and turned his chin toward her, "You have never hurt me like that, and I trust that you won't. Have faith in us."

"I promise that I'll never lose control like that again. I love you too much."

Katara could only nod. Only time would hold witness to that. If there were anything she knew from first impressions, though, it was that he was a man of his word. She quietly moved to his lap and his arms enveloped her, keeping her warm. For a while, all Zuko could hear was her steady breathing as it tickled his neck.

At dawn a bewildered Iroh came into the room and found the young Fire Lord and Lady asleep in each other's arms.

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_Okay- so if things are unclear, in a nutshell: Zuko and Katara were having flashbacks into their thoughts when they first met each other. Meanwhile, Zuko (who is under uber amounts of pressure as a young firelord this is post war, if you didn't already realize that ) lost it over something and almost took his frustration out on Katara. (abuse, if you're really dense) He doesn't, though, because he loves her and that love is more powerful than anything else they face. This is kinda weird, because I **never** write Zuko as an abusive kind of character, but this just popped out and ran away. _

_drum roll So please tell me what you think!! I am begging you! Just click that pretty little glowy button down there. It'll only take a sec, and reviewers get a whole jar of nutella! mmmmmmm . . .  
_


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